Flame
by jadoremwpp
Summary: Lily Evans is a Remus Lupin type of girl. It's evident. But life doesn't play like a movie and Hollywood makes endings too shiny. Reality hits harder and shatters dreams without a second glance. This is Lily, this is her life. LERL hints of LEJP.


**Disclaimer: Have you ever seen a real author write one of these?**

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_And if you don't love me let me go  
And I am a writer, writer of fictions  
I am the heart that you call home  
And I've written pages upon pages  
Trying to rid you from my bones_

_The Engine Driver - _The Decemberists

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Lily Evans was a Remus Lupin girl at first. There was no question about it. At Hogwarts, your type depended entirely on which Marauder you fancied. Of course, the Slytherins all claimed to be in love with Lucius Malfoy, but who listened to them in these dark days? Emmeline Vance, Lily's kindred spirit, had once remarked candidly, "What are the odds that the most attractive group of blokes to ever grace these hallways would be in our year _and _house? I love our lives." And she had reason. The Marauders were untouchable; handsome, hilarious and hip; they owned the school. They'd cheated in the game of life, coming up with too many aces to seem plausible.

Lily thought it was ridiculous. She saw girls throwing themselves at Sirius Black, fawning James Potter, offering shy smiles to Peter Pettigrew and it sent a shudder of disgust down her spine that made the castle quiver.

Really, Remus was the only sensible one of the lot in Lily's opinion. He didn't take his studies flippantly and he could discuss _War and Peace_ with relatively intellectual judgment. He'd _been_ to the library. Plus he was sweet, as opposed to that dismissive holier-than-thou attitude _certain_ boys exuded; he noticed when she changed her hair. Hell, he even liked The Beatles. His shy, mysterious disposition and soft attractiveness were rather fetching, and she'd always been more of a dark-blonde type. Thus she was dubbed a Remus-girl, and found many studious young men, mostly Ravenclaws, ostensibly interested in her. She dutifully daydreamed about him in History of Magic and decorated borders with his initials in various scripts. Yes, Remus was for her.

Her encounters with these remarkable boys were frequent -they practically lived together, after all- but Remus was the only one who ever really caught her fancy.

Sirius was a hurricane. He swept the world up effortlessly and turned it into chaos. He was the dark, uncontrollable one. He spent more time smoking in empty classrooms, girl on his neck, than in class itself. He wore leather, blasted Zeppelin. Innuendo dripped off his tongue. He organised illegal gambling nights; set up a Hogwarts 'Black' market with wicked, seductive cousins. Where Sirius Black went, disorder followed. He brushed aside laws like they were porcelain, marching to the beat of whichever drum so suited. Lily admired his kissed lips, shaggy hair and perfect butt from afar, sure. There wasn't a woman in the school who didn't; he melted girls with charm. However, his world was a web of corruption, one she didn't plan to be caught in.

Emmeline and him were on-off, on-off, an endless cycle of sex and deception. He slept with her, told her he loved her then shagged a blonde in a low-cut shirt after one or two drinks. Then she would scream and crackle lightning at him, vowing that never again would he grace _her_ doorway. Eventually they'd start to feel an irksome pine, an unsatisfied heart beating haphazardly in an unsatisfied chest. Follow a night of ardour, cigarettes and promises of faithfulness. Yet next, she would find herself in the arms of another. Life was always complicated with Sirius, in love, family and friends. Everything was always extremes, he loved you then he hated you and never half-heartedly. Enter his world and you became the centre of it, for better or for worse.

Pettigrew drew the shy ones; he subsisted on reflected glory. The limelight was so close but he was only on its sidelines. Pettigrew-girls were bashful, reserved and secretly had crushes on Sirius. Not that he was particularly ugly, his innocent blue eyes and sleek blonde head gave him a boyish charm. But place a candle next to raging fire and it seems very dull. He couldn't produce a decent potion to save himself, either, and Lily was partial to potions.

James Potter. Say that name to people about the school and you got words like legend, gorgeous, captivating and impossible. He reminded Lily of a Muggle celebrity. Everything he did was noticed, all of it implausibly extraordinary. He flew as if a bird himself, breezed through academics as though magic was his invention. He was passion personified, always searching for the thrill, hunting grandeur. If James Potter looked at you soon all your friends would know. Lily had once overheard a ludicrous conversation between several fourth years along the lines of:

"Sleek Easy is by far superior, my mum _always_ uses it."

"Nah, it dries your hair out."

"Not if you counter it with their shampoo, it doesn't!"

"Well, then it's just some stupid campaign to make us buy more of their products."

"Well, Amelia Bones uses it and _she_ went out with James Potter."

"Oh. Ok, can I borrow yours, then?"

People acted as if he were a god. Utterly ridiculous Lily thought. I mean, if you like bullying, insolent bastards… He wasn't really particularly handsome. Glasses were so passé, and could someone pass that boy a comb? The messy black mop that adorned his head was preposterous, if she could just get her hands in it… James Potter. If only she could force him into a room and remodel him completely.

Once, Remus and Lily had kissed. It had been a hectic whirl, both tasting of firewhisky and recklessness. For a while, a party had seethed above them like an unbroken thundercloud as they desperately grasped at each other, seeking solace in a kiss. Lily didn't remember much of it, just the supple contours of his back and the constant beat of the noise to which they'd initiated to dance. His wild hunger for her and wolf-like fervour.

Later, he'd approached her in the library, guilt teasing his features. "You're a beautiful girl, Lily, but there's James to consider and I owe him, plus my sick mother. I like you and I want you and it was an excellent kiss, albeit a little drunken and I really don't have much to compare it to, but I liked it plenty, don't get me wrong, and I _do _like you, just, there's factors, you know?". Cue stunned mullet Lily. She'd hesitantly kissed him delicately, told him she understood and then attempted to make a smooth retreat. But she could feel the disappointment seeping in, taking hold and tightening its noose.

So, she let him go. She let her castle in the air sink back to earth and started to notice other boys. Boys who were quiet, boys who liked to read and boys who stuck to corners. But none of them were Remus. They were too silent, too insecure. No one but Remus could pull off the bookish, composed but undeniably shagable quality. Lily left that ideal behind and moved on to new kinds of boys. Boys who were self-assured, hot-blooded and matched her flame. Boys much more, she hated to admit, like James Potter.

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